


Terminology

by cazflibs



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:22:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazflibs/pseuds/cazflibs
Summary: When Rimmer mistakes 'areolas' for a Spanish goalkeeper, Lister decides that the hologram needs a lesson in proper terminology when it comes to the human body.





	Terminology

**Author's Note:**

> Written following the prompt from no-atmosphere: "Lister trying to teach Rimmer the proper names for intimate body parts, and Rimmer getting hugely embarrassed over it all."
> 
> Contains episode references to "Dear Dave" and "Give & Take".

“I'm not sure if I'm ready for this.”

“For smeg’s sake, there isn't gonna be an exam, y’know.”

“Maybe I need another pen -- ”

“Rimmer, you have _five_ pens already. Sit the smeg down.”

The hologram bristled but nonetheless did as he was told. After all, in this particular scenario, Lister was very much in charge - and where obligatory respect was due, a deep-seated part of him felt compelled to obey. He aligned his row of pens until they stood in rigid readiness beside the fresh notepad before him and awaited his fate in awkward silence.

Lister grinned happily to himself. It had taken a year of needling after the ‘areolas incident’, but Rimmer had finally confessed that his terminology knowledge when it came to the human body was woefully poor. And after losing a particular poker bet last week, the hapless hologram had been finally forced to take a proper lesson in anatomy from a certain Professor David Lister (newly and self-qualified). After all, when it came to understanding the southward particulars of the human body, Lister was _more_ than knowledgeable.

“Good mornin’, class!” Lister smirked as he gestured with his pointy stick to the flipchart beside him that bore his name in large, proud capitals. “My name is David Lister, and I'll be your teacher for today’s Sexual Anatomy lesson -- ” the Scouser tailed off as he clocked his student already furiously scribbling in his notepad. “Rimmer, I’m just jokin’. You don't have to write that down.”

“Oh.” Rimmer put one neat line through the name and glanced up expectantly.

Lister shook his head despairingly. “Let's get crackin’, shall we? First up - the female genitalia.”

In a _swish_ of paper, he revealed his first image. Rimmer’s nostrils flared in a sharp intake of breath as wide eyes darted down to his notepad, embarrassed.

Lister smirked. “What?” he probed innocently.

“Sorry,” Rimmer muttered. “I hadn't expected the graphics to be quite so - ” He cleared his throat self-consciously. “ - _graphic_.”

“For smeg’s sake, Rimmer. It's a medical diagram, not a still from a porn vid.” Dark eyes flitted across the simplistic pen lines in critical assessment, lip curled. “I've seen _flowcharts_ with more sex appeal than that.”

“Yes, but flowcharts are a thing of beauty,” Rimmer insisted, his gaze suddenly lost and distant. “So gorgeously streamlined. How everything just joins together to become one and - ”

“You get off on flowcharts?!” Before Rimmer could speak, Lister screwed his eyes closed, furiously waving the pointy stick to bat away the thought. “Actually, _don't_ answer that.” To be honest, he wouldn't be totally shocked.

Hurriedly circling the image, Lister started the lesson with the grating of gears. “Now, what is the proper collective term for the external parts of a lady’s genitals?” Glancing over his shoulder, he rolled his eyes. “Rimmer, you don't have to put your hand up. You're the only one here.”

The hologram lowered it smugly. “I have it on great authority that ‘pussy’ is an appropriate term.” 

Lister blinked twice. “Only in really crappy porn and 1970s sitcom double-entendres.”

“That's not true!” Rimmer replied testily, sitting up straighter in his chair. _Fascist Dictator Monthly_ once famously quoted President Trump as saying that it was perfectly acceptable to a grab a woman by the - ”

“No!” Lister cut in swiftly. He thrust the stick out at the hologram, glaring at him down its length like levelling an arrow. “And _no_.”

Lip pursed as he nodded his acceptance, Rimmer scribbled furiously in his notepad.

Lister lowered the stick, aghast. “Please don't tell me that you're having to _write down_ that it's totally outta the question to do that?!”

“Of course not!” Rimmer shot back in affront. “Just that ‘pussy’ is not an acceptable term to use.” He returned to his writing, muttering under his breath. “I'm not a _total_ idiot.”

“Thank smeg for that.” A shiver crawled up Lister’s spine, and he gave the board a sharp rap to dismiss it. “Vulva,” he stated simply. “The external parts of a lady’s genitals are known as the ‘vulva’.”

Eyes narrowing in recollection, Rimmer tapped a thoughtful finger against his mouth. “Y’know, I think I went to school with a girl called ‘Vulva’.”

“No, Rimmer,” the Scouser sighed, eyes closed. “You really didn't.”

The hologram dismissed his thoughts with a wave of the hand. “No, wait. _Olga_. That was her name.”

Sighing haughtily, Lister turned back to the diagram. “Next up are the ‘labia’.” He pointed his stick in indication. “The inner and outer folds of the vulva.”

“Ahh, like in that film?”

Lister shot him a knowing look over his shoulder. “Film?” he echoed.

“Not _that_ kind of film,” Rimmer bit back snidely. “It won Academy Awards and everything. That famous historical film. Set in the Far East.” Rimmer clicked his fingers in recollection. “ _Lawrence of her Labia_.”

It took every inch of Lister’s willpower not to laugh. “A historical film?” he asked flatly.

“Absolutely.”

Lister arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “That just _happened_ to have a fair amount of bonkin’ in it, am I right?”

“Perhaps,” Rimmer muttered, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “But it's quite well-documented that people were rather highly sexed back then.”

Dreadlocks danced across his back as Lister shook his head despairingly. “Smeg’s sake, I can't believe we’re havin’ to use porn film titles for reference,” he muttered.

Ignoring Rimmer’s scowl, he pressed on firmly. “Next, we have the clitoris.” The pointy stick snapped onto the diagram in indication. “Although, judgin’ from your love of dodgy acronyms, that's somethin’ you're already familiar with.”

“Is _that_ where it is?!” Rimmer blurted before groaning in self-disgust. “Smeg, Nirvanah must have thought I was a right idiot.” 

Lister blinked his surprise; maybe Rimmer wasn't too familiar with it after all. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, where did you think it was?”

Rimmer angled his head as he studied the diagram carefully before cradling his chin in the cup of his hand. “About two inches out from where the diagram insists it is by the looks of it,” he sighed sullenly.

“What, were you licking her navel?”

“Oh, ha ha,” Rimmer smiled coldly. “But I think we've since established that this - ” he gestured loosely to the female diagram, “ - is not my particular area of preferred study.”

“Well, that's true,” Lister agreed, flashing him a most unprofessional wink. “Okay, let's move onto your particular area of ‘expertise’, then, eh?” Once again, he flipped over the paper with a flourish before nodding at the image sagely. “Now, here we have a prime example of the male genitalia.”

With wide eyes unable to tear themselves away from the flipchart, Rimmer cleared his throat awkwardly. “Erm - question?” he mumbled, an absent hand half-raised. “Is that a photograph of your wedding tackle?”

“Please save all questions until the end of the lesson,” Lister tutted, unfazed. Although his face giving nothing away, dark eyes danced with mischief. “And make sure you're usin’ the _correct_ terms, if you don't mind. We’re not usin’ the phrases ‘wedding tackle’ or ‘love spuds’ in this classroom.”

“But this is the Sleeping Quarters.”

“And no more talkin’ in the lesson.”

Proudly brandishing the pointy stick which boasted similar lengths to the image it encircled, Lister turned back to his bemused audience. “Now, the proper term for the male genitalia is the ‘penis’.”

The hologram squirmed uncomfortably. “I don't care if researchers and men of science came up with these terms. They're just so vulgar! I can't say that!”

“What, so you'll happily put it _in_ your mouth, but you won't allow the proper term to come _out_ of it?” Lister snorted.

Rimmer ground his jaw. “That particular activity is extra-curricular, if you don't mind,” he muttered tightly.

“Then you shouldn't have any trouble sayin’ it in class,” Lister chirped. He needled the hologram with a grin, knowing how much this would be making the man squirm. “Repeat after me - ‘penis’.”

Hazel eyes glared back. “I'll just learn in silence, thanks.”

“Huh.” Lister cocked his head to one side. “Not like you to be quiet when my penis is involved.”

Rimmer muttered under his breath and re-straightened his line of pens.

“Now,” Lister continued brightly, “the head of the penis is medically termed as the ‘glans’, whilst the main length is known as the ‘shaft’.”

“ _Shaft?!_ ” Rimmer echoed, appalled. He slid down in his seat, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “No wonder that smegging lift hasn't stopped laughing at me every time I pass it.”

Lister stifled a smirk. He'd heard the whispers amongst the vending machines about the man’s unintended double entendre but hadn't known the details. He'd have to charm the full story from them later. 

“And finally, we have the ‘scrotum’,” he announced grandly, circling his love spuds with the pointy stick. “A pouch of skin that holds the testicles.” 

An involuntarily shudder wormed its way through Rimmer’s projection as he doodled absently in his notepad. It really did sound like they were scraping the barrel when they were naming the male genitalia. A sharp rap at the flip chart jolted him from his thoughts.

“Rimmer! Stop doodling RISK strategies in your margins and pay attention to what I'm telling you about cocks.”

Rimmer glanced up, flashing him a snide smile. “I thought the correct term was ‘penis’?” he smarmed back.

Lister eyed him down the length of his pointy stick once again. “Don't you back chat me, mister, or I'll be giving you lines to write.” He grinned wickedly. “I have it on good authority that you're pretty good at writing the same line 400 times.”

“But I've never been any good when it comes to learning,” Rimmer whined loudly. “No matter what I seem to do, nothing ever seems to stick in my brain.”

Lister sighed piteously. That was certainly true. But he prided himself on being an attentive and innovative teacher, and perhaps this particular student would require a more ‘hands-on’ approach.

Fixing the hologram with a suggestive look, he purposefully closed the gap between them. “If you like, I can help you with some _practical_ revision?” he purred.

“Oh?” Rimmer blinked in confusion before the first of Lister’s teachings _finally_ sank in as a solicitous hand slipped down to stroke his shaft. _“Oh.”_


End file.
